Banters with the Enemy
by ohmystarisfading2013
Summary: For Hermione, she finds it disturbing when Draco isn't bothering her as he must be plotting something. Draco, for the life of him, doesn't understand why she keeps making him faint. Must be all that misplaced chemistry! Chaos ensues!


_i. open the floodgates_

The first time Malfoy threw a copy of the Prophet at her head she sent him a heated glare that spoke volumes and ignored him the rest of the day.

The second time Malfoy's paper found itself catapulted from his desk to her side of the room, she told him tightly and politely to stop being a petulant child and grow up.

The third time the crumpled newspaper nestled in her curls Hermione smiled at him sweetly. After relishing the disturbed expression on his visage, she then proceeded to mutter a sharp stinging jinx that caused him to scowl darkly and stalk all the way to the bathroom. He knocked over her coffee as he stormed out.

So it did strike Hermione completely out of the ordinary to find Malfoy quietly reading his paper and sipping steaming Earl Gray – as if this kind of behavior was quotidian – the very next day.

Prudently, her guard instantly went up.

He gave her a knowing smirk and wiggled his blond eyebrows as she treaded carefully to her seat. She flared her nose and he, _he,_had the audacity to chuckle and fold his paper into perfect squares as though this ceasefire was completely normal.

The git leaned back into his rich leather chair, inhaling deeply and lavishly as though their office was some bloody rose garden.

She snapped internally.

This was familiar territory; Hermione had treaded these dangerous waters before. Even when she was just an innocent seventeen-year-old girl traipsing into battle, she could feel it consume her every single time. It was this same notion now humming on her skin, pulsating in her veins.

This was war.

And Malfoy was playing dirty. But no worries, she could get down and filthy too.

She cleared her throat to gather his attention, throwing him a smirk that rivaled his own trademark. When she had his widened eyes, she batted her eyelashes coquettishly and leaned daringly forward in her chair. Pursing her pinkish lips, her carefully placed words seemed to tumble freely.

"Looking good, Malfoy."

Malfoy blinked twice before falling out of his chair.

_ii. two can play at this game_

He spent the next week carefully planning his next move. She was a smart know-it-all, but in his mind her memorization paled in comparison to his lightning fast cognizance – not that she wasn't sharp or intelligent, he simply found his own talents more resourceful, and that much better.

After all, he was a Slytherin.

Once he zeroed in on a plan of attack, as well as Plan B, C, and D (just in case), he calmed the waters and played innocent. Visibly bothered by his peaceful nature, she spent her time scrutinizing and meddling in his business to uncover whatever it was that he planned to unleash. Rather than hinder his motions, these actions simply allowed his plan fester.

Always Malfoy this, Malfoy that. Honestly, if they weren't such a bloody fantastic team out on the field he would wring her bloody neck. But, he thought to himself, now was neither the time nor place because it was time to employ Operation H. Down.

For Hermione, the day had already been a disaster. Merlin knows how, but Crookshanks managed to flood her apartment, which would have been a simple fix with magic but _no_, the fucking water just had to seep through the floor and into the flat below her. Then after calling her pillock of a plumber _and_ the lazy cleaners, she received a verbal reprimand from her landlord. To top it all off, Harry managed to Floo at the most perfect of moments: right in front of her now fainted landlord. The poor chubby man had to be Obliviated.

She was an hour late by the time she had sorted everything and walked into the Ministry.

And frankly, if she had to deal with Malfoy's crap today, she was going to blow his head off with the 257 ways she learned to decapitate an enemy in Auror training.

When she saw Malfoy flirting with some redheaded tart by their secretary's desk she almost wanted to hug him for making the day that much more normal. She regretted her thoughts the instant his dazzling grin moved from the bird and trained on her.

He followed her sensible heels into their office. Commencing H. Down, he thought silently.

"Merlin Granger, it looks like someone took a shite in your breakfast."

"Well aren't you a charmer at nine in the morning."

He snorted.

"At least I'm an honest bloke. Whatever, I don't care if the Weasel and Potty dumped you today–"

"What! That never hap–"

"I know you like it when there's two, no shame Granger, no shame."

"Ron, Harry, and I will never be a "thing"! I don't understand why everyone seems to think we shag each other–"

"–I get that you're an extraordinary woman. You're strong and insatiable; you like a challenge. Really Granger, I get that."

"That's absolutely revolting. I can't believe that's the kind of things you busy yourself thinking about. And to be honest, I know that it's on everyone else's minds too. You're all disgusting!"

"Whips and BDSM I can respect that."

"For the love of… Malfoy, I will tell you that I've had a very safe, comfortable, and _rewarding_sex life without either of them involved. And any of that other crap you're spewing too."

"–Perhaps you need to expand your horizons from Scarhead and Weaselbee. You know, acquaint your ink bottle with some other, shinier, newer quills if you know what I mean–"

"For your information, I've been with plenty of people that aren't Harry or Ron. There's Ernie, and he was quite nice with his hands, but Cormac is the one who has a fabulously muscular arse mind you. Dean was alright, Michael Corner's a screamer, Terry likes it when… well… um…"

Draco's feet rooted to the floor. This was not going to plan.

"–Anyway, then there was Anthony Goldstein and Zacharias. Oh, and Theo one night after work – don't mention this to him, yeah? Roger Davies… my what fine… scrolls, he had some nice scrolls in his house."

What in the hell…

"I will shamefully admit that I had a little stint with Seamus," she continued, bowing her head with regret, "I'm not proud of it, but it was one night! One night! I don't understand why people won't let me forget. Let me think of more…"

Draco shook his head with incredible vigor and looked at Hermione, positively mortified.

"What in bloody Merlin! Granger, you've shagged the entire Auror floor!"

"Well not the old ones, or the ones fresh out of Hogwarts."

"You've got to be kidding me…"

"I mean, we _were_ talking about sex, right?" Hermione asked faux-hesitantly.

"Not the one's you've dreamed about silly bint!"

Hermione chuckled with mirth and raised her brows suggestively.

"Like I need to dream. All I've done since fifth year, Malfoy, is reminisce…"

Malfoy blinked three times and fainted.


End file.
